


Stop me if you've heard this one before

by helvel



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, just another scene from that six thousand year slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helvel/pseuds/helvel
Summary: An angel and a demon walk into a bar in Bethlehem...





	Stop me if you've heard this one before

As far as Aziraphale was concerned, sweating was a horrible human affliction that he wanted no part of, but given the present circumstances, there wasn’t much to be done about it. Judea was simply too hot this time of year. It would not be so bad, he thought, if the streets were not so crowded, or if he could just stand in the shade for a moment. Excusing himself around a passing camel, he edged into an alley away from the mid-day sun. 

Some kind soul had left out a barrel of water in the alley. It was pleasantly cool when Aziraphale dipped a hand in, and as refreshing as a summer rain when he splashed a bit over his face. _What a blessing._

That, and a moment’s peace were all he needed - or at least all he could hope for right now. He wiped the water from his eyes, then opened them to find a familiar pointy face looking back at him.

“Ah, Crawley!” he greeted with a smile. 

“Angel,” Crawley drawled back.

He wore a scarf draped over his head to keep the sun off, though surely a demon would not mind the heat so much. More likely, it was to veil his eyes from over-curious humans passing by. The slitted pupils and brilliant yellow did tend to cause alarm, as Aziraphale had seen, and over the years Crawley had found a number of ways to conceal them. It didn’t need to be said that each of these ways only enhanced that effortless _cool_ Crawley oozed. He always looked cool. He even had a way of leaning against walls with such ease, as if he’d always been just there, beside the barrel in the alley.

Aziraphale startled. _Oh my – the barrel!_ He waved Crawley back from the water.

“Mind yourself,” he warned, “I think I’ve just blessed this.”

Crawley coiled back from the barrel of Holy Water with a hiss. Aziraphale really couldn’t fault him for it, though it had been an accident. He placed himself between Crawley and the barrel and beckoned for the demon to pass by into the street. Crawley did so with great caution, and did not seem to relax back into his normal self until they were well on their way.

“This is quite a surprise!” Aziraphale said, by way of making conversation, though he really was pleased to bump into the demon. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Crawley peered around the busy street in mild disgust. “Seems like it’s the place to be right now.”

“Yes. Well,” Aziraphale half agreed. There was no denying that the streets of Bethlehem were packed with people, as if everyone ever born there had returned at once, which was exactly what had happened. “Census, and what have you.”

Crawley leaned in closer to Aziraphale’s ear. “Plenty of  _your lot,_ too.”

That was also true. A host of angels were among those gathered in Bethlehem, and thinking of why they were all here sent a sparkling thrill through Aziraphale’s corporeal form. What it all meant - _oh!_ The smile couldn’t leave his face.

Should he tell it to Crawley? There was no harm in it, surely. Hell must be aware it was to happen, and there was nothing they could do to stop it anyway. Aziraphale waved for Crawley to lean in closer.

“If you must know,” he whispered, “... the Christ Child is soon to be born!”

There came a loud sound of clanking metal as every beggars’ collection plate was suddenly piled high with coins. _Whoopsies._ That miracle had been unintentional, but Aziraphale just could not contain his utter joy.

Crawley, however, didn’t look half so pleased.

“Already?” he asked.

“What do you mean, _already?_ ”

Crawley shrugged. “Just seems like we barely got here.” He drew himself up, looking around as if the passage of time was written in the streets of Bethlehem. “Four thousand years already…”

“Four thousand and seven, to be precise.”

“And yet…” Crawley turned to face him, yellow eyes glinting, “we’ve barely had time to get to know each other.”

The particular lilt of his voice suggested something, like _perhaps we should do something about that,_ and _perhaps it should be over a glass of something cold and refreshing._

“I-I…” Aziraphale dithered. A cold drink sounded very tempting right now. “I can’t possibly, Crawley, not now. I’ve got work to do! The Son of God will be joining us any day now, and us angels must be ready to announce Him.”

Crawley made a sound of disgust. “All these angels about. No wonder you’re so tense.”

“I am not tense!” Aziraphale protested, sounding far tenser than he wished to. He was _not_ tense. He was _happy_. Soon he and all the angels would be announcing the birth of the Christ Child.

Only, Aziraphale hadn’t had to deal with this many of his own people about since the last time he was in Heaven. He'd gotten rather used to living on Earth without them. Now, having angels with him at every turn was…

… _just a bit suffocating._

Crawley laid a hand on his shoulder. “What you need, my friend, is a break.”

That was nearly enough to make Aziraphale agree right then.

“Crawley,” he managed to say, while gently removing the demon’s hand, “I must be ready at any moment.”

“Oh, come _on,_ ” Crawley wheedled in that way that made his face scrunch up just so, “There’s about a hundred angels on duty ready to shout about this kid being born. They’re not going to notice if one is missing.”

That was a fair point, now that Aziraphale thought about it. They wouldn’t be long, surely…

“Just one drink,” Aziraphale agreed.

Crawley’s face lit up, and for just a second Aziraphale saw the brilliance of the angel he had once been.

Settling his arm back around Aziraphale’s shoulder, Crawley steered them down another street. “I know just the place,” he said, “There’s a little inn at the edge of town. The room I’ve rented there must have been the last room available in Bethlehem.”

This was said with pride, suggesting some wiles had been involved, but it was not the demonic interference that made Aziraphale stop in his tracks. 

“Room?” he repeated, slightly panicked, “No, no, I didn’t agree to go back to your room-“

“Relax, angel-”

“This is all very- very fast for me!“

It was not that Aziraphale had never considered such things. It was difficult _not_ to when Crawley went around in a form that was the physical embodiment of all the pleasures that human bodies were capable of. All long legs and sharp features and pretty hair framing a smile that had no right to be so charming. The propriety of it, though… why, Crawley was a demon, and they’d barely known each other four thousand years!

Crawley held up his hands. “Come on. That’s not what this is about.” He chuckled. “Besides, the whole lust thing isn’t really... _me._ That’s more Asmodeus’ thing.”

Crawley said that, but even now, his sleeve had slid back to display a fair bit of pale, delicate wrist for all to see in the streets. Aziraphale closed his eyes. He considered calling on God’s powers to help him resist, but perhaps it was best not to get God involved in any of this.

He was sweating, again. He needed something cold to drink. _Blast it all._

“Just one drink,” Aziraphale agreed.

Crawley grinned. “Just one drink.”


End file.
